


Requested and Required

by keerawa



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Cultural Differences, Dragons, F/M, Genetics, Yuletide 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/pseuds/keerawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The envelope clearly held a set of orders, but what could have so upset Laurence?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requested and Required

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunmachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunmachine/gifts).



> Thanks to my beta, Ruth, for the character and Napoleonic-era science consult.  
> I've always enjoyed the glimpses we catch of the truly alien mind-set of the dragons in the Temeraire books, and I wanted a chance to explore it here. As I haven't yet read 'Blood of Tyrants', this story is probably thoroughly Joss'd already. Consider this a hiatus fic, sunmachine, and I hope you enjoy it!

Laurence was holding a heavy envelope between two fingers, as he might a weevil-infested biscuit. Temeraire tilted his head and saw that the Admiralty's seal had been broken. His increasingly anxious requests that Laurence read the letter to him were met with a quiet, steady refusal.

"Not until Iskierka arrives," Laurence insisted, and wouldn't say another word.

The envelope clearly held a set of orders, but what could have so upset Laurence? They'd already been sent to Africa, Australia, the Americas and back - surely there was nowhere worse to send them? True, there were unpleasant rumors about Newfoundland, but those hardly seemed credible, and it's not as if they had committed treason recently. At least, not that Temeraire was aware of, and surely Laurence would have mentioned it if they had …. 

Oh! Iskierka must have done something! She was always starting fires, and fights, snatching up people and things that didn't belong to her, and trying to take prizes of ships under allied flags. Whatever she'd done this time, Temeraire refused to let Laurence suffer for it.

He spotted Iskierka, flying in from the west. She back-winged to a heavy landing, and Granby climbed down, unhooking himself from her harness. He greeted Temeraire cordially enough, his smile nervous and false as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Laurence. Temeraire moved to loom protectively over Laurence and waited to hear what the Admiralty had in store for them.

Laurence carefully opened the envelope, pulled out the thick white paper, and announced, "We are hereby requested and required to report to the _Pen y Fan_ breeding grounds, thereby-"

Temeraire roared. "I won't let them put you in prison, not again!"

Iskierka hissed, and tried to snatch up Granby, who threw himself on the ground to avoid her claws.

Laurence was yelling and waving his arms. "No, no! No one's going to prison! Whatever gave you that idea?"

Temeraire settled back onto his haunches, feeling rather self-conscious over making such a fuss, when it seemed unwarranted. "You did say they are sending us to a breeding ground."

"Yes, you and Iskierka."

"For how long?" Iskierka asked suspiciously, eyeing Granby who had stood up some distance away and was trying to brush the dirt off his uniform, rather awkwardly given he'd only the one arm.

"As long as it takes to get a clutch of eggs from the two of you," Laurence answered. "The Admiralty has great hopes for your offspring. You can imagine how a group of fire-breathers with your speed and maneuverability could provide Britain with an unparalleled advantage."

"Well, that's certainly true," Temeraire admitted. "And they want just the one clutch? Then we can go back on duty?" 

Laurence nodded.

"Oh, that shouldn't take too long," Temeraire said, stretching out his neck to sniff delicately along Iskierka's haunches. "A few weeks, perhaps a month, and I can have her gravid." Temeraire ignored the prickling uncertainty of Lien's assertion that Celestials _couldn't_ breed with other dragons. After all, she was a proven liar.

"Not too long for you," Iskierka complained, settling back towards him with steam drifting from her spikes. "I'll be grounded for months."

"You'll be back on duty before summer, and that's when the richest prizes set sail."

"I suppose," she said, sounding rather cheerful about it, despite her protests. "At least they'll have plenty of cows and sheep at the breeding grounds. I'm sick of fish."

"So you're … all right with being paired up for breeding?" Laurence asked.

Temeraire huffed. "Certainly. We tried it once before – no eggs, but I think it went well enough. And as you say, the Admiralty wants the best; I'm not certain why it's taken them this long to recognize our merits, but I suppose they've been distracted by the war. Do you think, if it's a particularly good clutch, they might award you a title?"

Laurence seemed confused.

"Only, it’s a bit embarrassing, that China has recognized you as a prince, and Britain hasn’t, yet," Temeraire explained.

"Granby needs a title, as well," Iskierka declared.

Granby opened his mouth.

"Just a small one," Iskierka amended quickly.

Laurence cut her off. "I'll be certain to mention it to Admiral Roland, when next I see her," he said. "We'll leave for _Pen y Fan_ in the morning. Granby and I have a few errands to run before we leave, so I suppose we'll, err, leave you two to get acquainted, tonight."

With that, Laurence spun smartly about and marched away towards the barracks.

"Make certain that Sipho packs my talon sheathes," Temeraire called after him.

Iskierka wanted to bring her entire crew with her to the breeding ground; apparently all but a handful had already been placed on leave. 

"I don't understand why I wasn't consulted," she grumbled. "My hide gets itchy after a mating flight, and I'll need a new, larger harness made for me, in case there's an attack while I'm brooding."

"Your eggs are far too precious to risk," Granby comforted her. "Every dragon in the isles should put themselves between any enemy and your clutch."

Finally Iskierka allowed Granby to take his leave. Temeraire watched him go, and then let out a deep, rumbling sigh.

"You needn't worry about earning titles for our captains," Iskierka assured him. "Our hatchlings are all certain to be fire-breathers."

"And what makes you say that?" Temeraire asked.

"Granby says fire-breathers always breed true," she said, preening.

Temeraire wondered on what basis Granby had made such a claim. Iskierka was the only fire-breather in Britain, and other nations had proved reticent when it came to sharing their breeding records. "I made a study of the characteristics of breeding pairs, clutches, and egg-mates when Laurence and I were assigned to start our breeding ground," he told her. "It's quite a complex business, displaying some intriguing mathematical relationships."

"Oh?" Iskierka said disinterestedly, settling down onto the ground beside him, tail curled round herself as if preparing for a nap. 

"Indeed," Temeraire said, determined to educate the scorch-brained creature. "Some desirable characteristics will blend with their opposite, and be unpredictably diluted, like blood in water. Size, for example. Breed a heavy-weight dam with a medium-weight sire, and their offspring might be of any size between the two, or even more extreme, like Kulingile. But other characteristics, like night vision, and, if Granby is correct, _fire-breath_ ," he stressed the last and was rewarded with a sudden huff of steam, "are either present or entirely absent, in a predictable pattern."

Temeraire paused. "I might fly down to the lake, see if they've re-stocked the trout yet," he mused. He gazed meditatively towards the distant lake for a few minutes.

"What pattern," Iskierka finally hissed.

"Oh," said Temeraire, feigning surprise. "Did you want to hear more about it? I've considered submitting a monograph on the subject to 'The Annals of Dragonology.' Do you realize they've never published a single article written _by_ a dragon? It's rather odd."

The trickle of steam emerging from Iskierka's nostrils became a thin stream, and Temeraire hurriedly continued.

"Based on my study of inherited characteristics, even if 100 percent of your first clutch were fire-breathers, only 50 percent or so of their off-spring will retain the ability. And once lost, it shall never again appear in any of their lines, unless the characteristic is re-introduced into the line by a new fire-breather."

Iskierka's wings mantled agitatedly, as if protecting their future clutch. "Why?" she asked screeched. "Why should they lose their fire-breath?"

Temeraire looked around nervously. If Iskierka was too loud, Granby would come running. "It's not that the offspring lose the ability – just that they never inherit it in the first place. You see, fire-breathing seems to be what I call a 'loud' trait. If a young dragon inherits a loud trait from either their sire or dam, but not both, they will always display it, but shall only pass it on to their own offspring half the time. 'Quiet' traits, such as night vision, only show up when inherited from both sire _and_ dam, but that means the trait is often passed quietly, even secretly, down a line for generations until it reappears."

The approximate one in four, one in two, and one in one ratios of night-fliers produced by various breeding pairs had been key to developing Temeraire's theory of inherited characteristics in dragons.

"What about your breath-thing," Iskierka asked suspiciously. "Is that one of the secret ones?" 

"The divine wind?" Temeraire said. "I can't be sure. Ours will be my first clutch, and of course Celestial dragons never breed with any of the lesser types –" 

Temeraire snatched his front paw back to safety as flame licked out of Iskierka's mouth. Honestly, she was sensitive about the most ridiculous things. "Perhaps you'll lay a large clutch, with some fire-breathers, and some Celestials, with my maneuverability and ability to produce the divine wind," he soothed her. "Wouldn't that be lovely? Then Laurence and Granby's offspring could all be captains."

To his surprise, Iskierka curled in tight, making herself small, and tucked her head under her wing. "He won't have any at all," she said, so quiet that Temeraire wasn't certain whether he was meant to have heard her.

"No offspring? Well, he hasn't any yet, but he's still young, there's plenty of time. And with all the prizes you bring in, he's sure to attract an excellent wife." Appeals to Iskierka's vanity rarely went astray, but this time, it didn't seem to help at all.

"He won't, he doesn't want one, he won't breed!" Iskierka wailed.

"Why ever not?" Temeraire asked. He'd never heard of such a thing. Granby was an aviator; surely he understood his responsibilities better than that.

"Granby doesn't like females. He only likes Little, he told me so after I tried to have him marry the Empress. He's going to die, and leave me all alone with no one but strangers for my captain and crew!"

At first he'd assumed Iskierka was making noise over nothing, as she was wont to do, but this – this was terrible. Temeraire didn't like to think about it, but he knew that when Laurence grew too old to captain him, he would be able to choose one of his sons for his crew. Or perhaps a daughter; Roland was his favorite ensign, and if Longwings could have their pick of their captains' daughters, Temeraire saw no reason why he shouldn't do the same. Thus he would always have a bit of Laurence with him. For Granby to deny Iskierka that right was cruel, and thus completely out of character.

"No, I'm certain that's not true," Temeraire assured her. "I've seen Granby grooming with Little, like Demane did with Roland, but he would never be so spiteful as to refuse to breed."

Iskierka's neck straightened so that she could look him in the eye. "Do you think so?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm certain of it. After all, at first he wouldn't wear that splendid coat you had made for him, but you convinced him of it easily enough, didn't you?"

"That's true," she agreed, sounding much more herself.

"I'll speak to Laurence; the Admiralty will arrange a good match," Temeraire said breezily. Actually, he suspected that might be outside the Admiralty's purview. It was likely the captain's mother's responsibility; Laurence had said something about his mother trying to arrange a match for him. Perhaps Iskierka should contact Granby's mother? 

In fact, Temeraire should encourage Laurence to start breeding soon, as Curicuillor had suggested. Just as it would be cruel for Granby to refuse to breed, it was wrong of Temeraire to demand all of Laurence's attention, when it meant Laurence couldn't get any offspring of his own. Laurence might enjoy mating with Admiral Roland, but she clearly wasn't producing any more eggs, at least, not with Laurence. 

What's more, it was entirely possible that men also carried loud and quiet traits. Temeraire would need to make a proper study of it. Since they only produced one or two egg-mates per brood, it would take a human female some years to produce a large enough sample for Temeraire to get any solid results for his research.

Temeraire would need to write a letter to Laurence's mother, to ensure that a quality female was provided as soon as possible. He decided to write the letter tonight, before they left for the breeding grounds, and arrange for one of the Winchesters to deliver it in secret. 

A wife would make an excellent surprise for Laurence's birthday.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Requested and Required](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9129001) by [keerawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/pseuds/keerawa), [sisi_rambles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisi_rambles/pseuds/sisi_rambles)




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